From Russia, With Love
by and so they said always
Summary: On the day she was shot, two things lodged themselves in Kate Beckett's heart: one bullet, and three little words. Now, months later, she wonders if she'll ever be able to tear her walls down and tell him the truth, face to face. But when Castle asks Beckett to say something in Russian, she thinks perhaps she's found a way. A way that's close enough for now. A One-Shot.


**Hi guys,**

**So this is actually the only one shot I've ever written with the intention of it being a one shot right from the beginning. It's essentially plot-less, just a little idea that's been swirling around in my head for the last couple of days.**

**This is set in mid Season 4.**

**x. M**

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**From Russia, With Love  
****a caskett fanfiction**

Beckett stares blankly at her screen.  
The tiny little black symbols that should form phrase have been floating around freely on the word document for the past half an hour, wandering like falling leaves.  
It is definitely too early in the morning for such tedious paperwork.  
There is a loud cough behind her, startling her as much as the pterodactyl scene in Jurassic Park.  
Her reverie broken, she whirls around, scowling at the offender.  
Ryan shrinks back slightly, feeling slightly over exposed to Beckett's fury without the extra reinforcement that Esposito normally provides.  
"Uh, Beckett? Yeah. Sorry, but the cousin's alibi is holding," Ryan tells her, fairly sure her gaze could wilt flowers.  
"Damn," Beckett breathes, glaring at her frankly fabulous shoes.  
"I know. Next best suspect is the sister, and she lives all the way out in Hartford, a little way nearer than Springfield."  
Beckett groans. "I don't suppose you and Espo fancy a two hour drive?"  
The Hispanic detective wanders up to stand beside his partner, looking smug. "Not in the least, Becks. Tag and you're it."  
"Call me Becks again and we'll be driving out to Hartford to hide your body," she warns, narrowing her eyes. "But all right, I'll go."  
She grabs her leather jacket from the back of her chair, and stalks over to the elevator, just as the doors ding open, and Castle steps out, two takeaway coffee cups in his hands.  
He opens his mouth to greet her as he walks out into the hall, but she pushes his shoulder to spin him back around and into the lift once more.  
"C'mon, Castle," Beckett mutters, pressing the button for the ground floor. "Road trip."

Castle stretches out a careful hand and adjusts the radio.  
Beckett doesn't seem to notice; her eyes remain fixed on the road. A small flash of pride jolts through him like an electric shock. In their early cases, she'd have shot off his knuckles if his fingers had hinted at touching merely the volume control. Now, it no longer seems to bother her.  
Maybe, one day, she'll even let him drive.  
He grins at the idea.  
"What are you smirking about?" Beckett pokes, casting a sidelong glance in his general direction.  
"Nope. Nothing. I'm all good," he replies hurriedly, turning to look out the window.  
He reckons he's probably doing a good job of pretending to watch the other cars go by, but if he tilts his head just so, he can see her reflection, and the (adorable) tiny frown of concentration on her face.

"Beckett, I'm bored," Castle whines finally, after holding up surprisingly well for the whole hour they've been on the road.  
"Uh huh."  
"Can we stop and do something? I've got nothing to do."  
"Well, _I _have something to do. It's called a job, Castle. If you didn't want to help, you shouldn't have come, now, should you?" Beckett is well aware that 2009 Kate would have been highly disappointed at the lack of edge in her voice, at the small smile quirking at her lips.  
She's glad he's talking again, though, instead of just sitting quietly.  
Lately, silences between her and him have become _I love you, Kate_ on loop, filling the air.  
"Oh, I have an idea! Say something in Russian, Beckett," he pleads, his _I'm-asking-nicely _expression being applied at full force.  
"Why?"  
He grins again. "Cos it'll be cool. Maybe Nikki Heat can speak a little Russian, or Rook. C'mon, please?"  
She sighs, rolling her eyes at the white stripes along the road, as if the bitumen could somehow sympathise with her. "All right. Fine. What do you want me to say, then?"  
Castle had really not expected to get this far. He'd had a plan for wheedling carefully laid out, but has no idea what to say now that she's agreed. "Um… can you say…_Castle, you are ruggedly handsome._"  
Castle listens carefully to the string of sounds that scramble into his ears, a chain of intonations and inflections, words that he can barely separate from their neighbours. "Ok," he asks, "What did you really say?"  
Beckett smirks. "I said, Castle likes to _think _he's ruggedly handsome. Well, that was the gist of it, I can't translate word for word."

Another silence.  
Soon, his confession from the day of her shooting is circling around in her head.  
She wonders if she'll ever be able to tell him she heard.  
She wonders if she'll ever be able to reply.

"Say something else," Castle demands childishly after a few minutes of quiet.  
"_Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu,_" Beckett says quietly.  
"What does that mean?"  
"It means, _thanks for bringing me coffee this morning,_" Beckett replies, though this isn't strictly true.  
Just as before, however, it's the gist of it, right? Coffee's always been their _almost, _a close-enough way to say what they can't.

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_Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu. _

_Translates to_

_I love you, too._

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**There you go. I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are great, so if you liked it, or if you didn't, please leave a comment.**

**PS. I am aware that my Russian in this is probably horrifically wrong. I only speak some French and English, so I had to use an online translator, and anyone who speaks two languages will agree when I say they are horrifically inaccurate 98% of the time.  
PPS. I'm not sure if someone else has written a similar fic to this before me (it just seems like a pretty basic idea), but the idea just popped into my head, so if you've already used it - very sorry. **

**x. M**

**If you're still feeling casketty,feel free to check out some of my other (longer) fanfictions.**


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